


The Young Wolf Never Dies (While The White Wolf Flies)

by BelieveMePlease



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Red Wedding, Cousin Incest, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, Warging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11290053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelieveMePlease/pseuds/BelieveMePlease
Summary: Robb Stark knew as he rode to his own wedding that he was riding to his own death. He didn't know how it would occur, he knew exactly why it would occur. Betrayal. Only the betrayal was greater than any Frey or Bolton could think. Perhaps he did deserve that death, it was his repentance for all his sins. Only, as tales would come to tell for many years past both their actual deaths, there was no way Robb Stark, King in the North and the first of his name, could ever let the young wolf leave the world behind white all in black.





	The Young Wolf Never Dies (While The White Wolf Flies)

 The Young Wolf Never Dies (While The White Wolf Flies)

Robb Stark knew as he rode to his own wedding that he was riding to his own death. He didn't know how it would occur, he knew exactly why it would occur. _Betrayal._ Only the betrayal was greater than any Frey or Bolton could think. Perhaps he did deserve that death, it was his repentance for all his sins. Only, as tales would come to tell for many years past both their actual deaths, there was no way Robb Stark, King in the North and the first of his name, could ever let the young wolf leave the world behind white all in black.

When he married Talisa, all he could see were those deep, mysterious eyes, that dark, dark head of hair that was always only slightly messy. He knew he shouldn't, but all Robb saw was _him._ First glimpse of her on that dewed battlefield and suddenly he was transported back in his mind to when he hoisted a bruised little bastard into his arms at early morning in the training yard at Winterfell, feeling the eight year old's tears damped his neck as he apologised autonomously for hurting his brother during their first sparring round. Even then he ignored his lady mother's eyes of distaste for the love he showed.

Jon had always proclaimed his hopes that Robb would marry a lady that possessed similarities to himself. That way it could feel as though the heirs Robb produced could still remind him of their love even though Jon could never have provided them.

At that Robb would merely hold his love close and revel in their time together. He did not want to think of marriage and children if he had to know that he could not share in them with Jon.

No matter, the time drew and Jon was long watching from the wall while he was long at war and he simply knew that no Frey girl could ever fulfil Jon's only wishes for him. And that meant it could not happen. He would do his duty as a king and as a man with an entire army relying on him, but it would not have made a difference if he had tried, he could not stop his duty to Jon from coming first.

Once the moment was gone, however, it did truly dawn on him that there was no escaping this deal. If he wanted to avenge his father's death, and Gods, did he want to avenge his father's death, then he would have no choice but to make good on his word. Jon would know that their father's honour was more important than the features of Robb's children.

But he was too late. And he knew it. He could feel by the way Greywind's fur prickled at his touch that there was something wrong. It took less than an hour for it to daunt that death was hanging closely over him.

Many other men, men stronger than Robb, would have accepted their fate, accepted how their trespasses had brought it upon themselves and died with the honour their bravery allowed them. But Robb was not a strong man. Not at heart, at least. The one long lasting lesson in love known to him as his shared childhood and youth with Jon had let weakness into his veins.

Fate now known to him, Robb would lie in his own tent on camp each night, already separating himself from his wife with the reason he first wed her now having elapsed. Clutching Greywind's thick coat between his fingers, Robb would imagine this great Direwolf was just a puppy again with Ghost's little head tucked under his chin, their small bodies being nearly crushed between his and Jon's chests with their desire to be closer, closer, always _closer._

Through the nights, Robb's dreams were troubled with images of his own lifeless body lying on the ground, of Greywind racing through icy woods, of a Direwolf so mercilessly decapitated and Jon's grief stricken form. A face so beautiful to Jon now pale and slender, traces of old salt tracks and red rims cursing the greyest of irises.

_A Direwolf_. Robb's dream seared back to the moments in Winterfell, to Lady's ultimate sacrifice for Nymeria. He could remember feeling Lady knowing her death had been decided, he remembered his awe at him sensing no fear or anger from the wolf, only a fierce wave of protectiveness and a willingness to do anything for her siblings. The way Robb would for his own.

That was not Greywind to die next to him. To any other onlooker they would look similar enough, there would be no notice and no mention as no one would realise. It was the ultimate deception and the ultimate sacrifice. There was one ultimate sacrifice one Stark and her wolf knew would need to be repaid one day.

And as Robb's conscious and Greywind's slipped so easily into one another, so fitting that Robb's sleeping mind almost didn't realise it had happened, he thought aloud to both the mind of his human body and his wolf's, _"find your sister"._

****

It took less than a day for Nymeria to arrive on camp. They had set up for the night. _The last night._ Robb thought as he looked down at his own body longingly. He and Greywind were settled in their tent, Robb thumbing and skimming over some of the letters he kept from Jon -there hadn't been a new one for weeks- when suddenly the wolf alerted from his cosy position atop the furs and bolted from the makeshift quarters.

The young king startled and gazed wide eyed for a moment after the path Greywind had so hastily taken before he quickly stuffed the letters back into their box and hurried after the loyal beast, emerging into the cold night air.

Robb could feel where Greywind was, the Direwolf's thoughts and feelings ever present in his mind the same way his own were inside his companion's. The king received only a few glances from soldiers as he headed casually for the brush skirting the forest they had set up close to, thankful for their assumption that he was merely relieving himself.

When he found the two wolves, both had their nose pressed to the check of the other, a greeting and final farewell all at once.

Robb crouched down beside the two and weaved his fingers into the soft fur over Greywind's spine and, feeling a sting of tears in his eyes, nuzzled his face into the warmth of a coat covered neck just to breathe him in one last time. Soon they would only be breathing the same air.

Nymeria backed one step away from her estranged brother and Robb pulled himself away from Greywind and dropped his hand from the fur to reach both out to his sister's so loyal yet so short lived friend.

She stepped willingly forward to him and hung her head low, her feelings radiated to Robb that she knew the time had come for her to do her duty. Robb stroked one hand over the top of her soft skull to bring her comfort and the other cupped beneath her muzzle to gently drag her eyes to his own.

"You know this is the only way," he whispered, "Your sister did this for you and now you will honour her in death and your brother in life. Our bodies may perish, but your spirit will find Lady and mine will find Jon. We will both only find true happiness this way. I know that is why you came."

Nymeria's eyes flickered away from Robb to brother standing beside him. Slowly, as if contemplating if this was how best to communicate herself, she lifted a paw toward the grey wolf, his instantly lifting to meet hers in the air. Their love for one another surrounded Robb so readily that he was hit instantly with an overwhelming desire to be with Jon sooner, faster, _now._

The she wolf dropped her paw suddenly and she tensed her body ferociously as she looked back to Robb and he felt a strong sense of determination come off her being and flood into him. Nymeria dropped her head once again, only this time it was to show her acknowledgment and quickly she turned to find comfortable solace among the wilderness she had become so accustomed to for the last time.

Greywind lead the pair back to their tent. They lay on Robb's bed together as though they were a marital pair settling in to their usual home for the night. Securely, Robb tied a small note to Greywind's front right leg. He had contemplated writing Jon a full letter, a declaration of everything he'd done, an apology for making the poor decisions that lead to his own demise and a clarification that a life with Jon was all that could have ever made life worth living. But he didn't.

He didn't need to. Eight words were all that graced that piece of paper and they were all the words Jon would ever need to read.

****

The pain was blinding, coursing through his body and igniting his veins with a fire so fierce he felt as though he was burning from the inside out. Robb stared bewildered out in front of him, now turned away from his attacker. All his mind could see was the pain, despite knowing, remembering he had to do something, something, the one thing that could save his life, it was almost as if Robb's own brain was screaming at him to forget it. Just die and let the pain be over.

"Mother," Robb felt himself croak, though he could not hear the words as his legs gave out and he crumpled onto his knees. From the very corner of his defeated eyes the young king watched as the she wolf growled viciously and bounded at the Frey soldiers. _The Lannister's send their regards._ And Robb  Stark remembered his father, and he remembered the evil, blonde boy prince turned king at his home in Winterfell and he remembered Jon. _I am going to kill them all._ Robb remembered. One day he was going to kill them _all._  

"Greywind," Robb felt the last of the air leave his lungs before suddenly he was breathing in the cold night's air of a dark, dark forest.

It took him a moment, feeling the cold snow beneath his feet, feeling the comfortable, recognisable thoughts of his wolf running through the same mind as his own. Robb felt himself become one with Greywind, gently stroking his - _their_ fur in their mind.

The stricken, grieving screech of his mother could be heard ringing way out even in the forest. Robb's heart ached for her and he grieved at the knowledge that her own fate would too, in moments be sealed. A roaring pang of loss that wasn't his own struck through him and averted his attention to the thoughts of the wolf with him, sensing the howling within as Greywind felt the end of his sister's sacrifice.

_'She did her duty,'_ Robb  told him, ' _I am sorry, boy.'_ And Robb let Greywind control all their movements for the moment, allowed the great Direwolf to bound off into the night and pause to howl in sorrow at the exposed moon between the trees.  

_'Soon,'_ Robb spoke as he took control of them both and started at a pounding pace into the night, _'We shall be with your brother, and with mine. You and I, Ghost and Jon, and we will kill them all. All the Frey's and the Bolton's and the Lannister's. We will avenge my father and your sisters. I promise you.'_  

The night was scarily still. A silent mourning for the young king now past and his valiant, loyal companion who gave his life trying to bring his master justice. Westeros could just wait and see.

****

Jon hadn't stopped crying the night through. It wasn't the same way he cried when he settled after his father's death, it wasn't the same way he cried when Robb informed him of his marriage to a healer girl. It was awful, ugly crying that ripped hideously loud, undisguisable sobs straight out of his heart to be ripped up through his vocal chords.

Every time he had tried to close his eyes he had been met with the last look he ever saw on Robb's face in the courtyard in Winterfell. The big, blue irises silently begging him to stay, not to leave and swear off love for ever. Jon had been able to read Robb's thoughts word for word just from one glance at his face their whole lives. And he still walked away.

Tired physically from his lack of sleep and utterly exhausted mentally at the knowledge that he would have to keep on living without the beating heart of Robb Stark in the world, Jon felt his mouth begin to ramble knowing that Sam would stand there and listen without complaint.

"Last time I saw him, he was in the courtyard at Winterfell. He said, 'Next time I see you, you'll be all in black.' I was jealous of Robb my whole life. The way my father looked at him, I wanted that. He was better than me at everything - fighting and hunting and riding and girls. Gods, the girls loved him. I wanted to hate him, but I never could." 

Jon knew why he was saying these things, even though he didn't mean a word. Even after Robb was dead and gone they were still keeping up the pretence that they were rivalling brothers who happened to care about each other as just that, _brothers._

All night. Jon was well aware that he had kept more than just many awake all night with his yells of mourning. He shouldn't have been so careless, but there was no way his shattered heart would ever have allowed him to react in any other way. He needed to cover himself and his actions now. Robb would have wanted him to keep himself safe.

All day. For the whole day he noticed the stares. Some of confusion, not understanding quite how anyone could care so much about one loss. Jon hated those ones. To them life was just a give and take and if you took, it was taken. Some of anger, irritated that Jon had been the reason they were now working sleep deprived. Jon hated those ones. Those were of the ones who had never and could never love the way he had and would continue to love. Some were of sympathy. Gods Jon hated those ones. No one could ever sympathise, no one could know or understand. Robb was his life, his beating heart and living soul and now he was gone.

More than anything Jon just wished he could be back in that courtyard in Winterfell. Wished he could turn back around and tell Robb he didn't care what his lady mother said, didn't care what she did to try and force him away; he didn't care what the people said, that he didn't want Robb to marry, that Bran's children could be the heirs to Winterfell. He wanted to tell Robb he would stay. Robb would be alive if Jon had just stayed.

But he couldn't tell Robb anything now, Robb was dead and their star-crossed love had died so painfully with him. There was nothing Jon could do.

****

The woods were freezing, especially at night.

As was to be expected, the further Robb and Greywind travelled north, the thicker the snow became and the more the icy winds began to bite. Despite Greywind's thick coat, Robb was used to having many warm furs to lay beneath at night and now he was having to grow accustom to putting all his faith in Greywind to keep them warm.

The days were long and tiresome, but their fast pace kept them heated from the chill and their joined determination to find their brothers kept them bounding on even when exhaustion gripped them both tight.  

Robb allowed Greywind to take control of their body and find them shelter for the night, his instincts would be able to tell better than Robb where the best position to be in the most dangerous hours was.

Feeling their body slow and begin to slink in search, Robb allowed himself to drift into the very back of their mind and just think while he was there. He thought of Jon in all his beauty with his grey eyes and black hair, think of the way he looked with those grey eyes glazed over in bliss and lust with the a halo of curls fanning to form a false image of innocence. Gods Robb missed him.

His thought of Jon must have seeped into Greywind's thoughts as he felt the great wolf join in the yearning for his own brother. All the wolves had been close as pups in Winterfell, but the parameters of Robb and Jon's relationship had meant that he and Ghost had spent the most time with one another and drawn close. The ice like wolf was far smaller than Greywind's massive, towering stature, always had been and is most likely still that way. The need to protect his brother burned hot under Greywind's skin and the closer they came to him, the powerful flames grew.

_'It won't be long, boy,'_ Robb comforted sensing the way a grave pain way twisting in their heart at Greywind's desire to be with Ghost, _'Each day we draw even closer to them, I can feel Jon's grief become stronger with each step, just as you feel your brother's. You can sense his mourning for your sister.'_

As Greywind settled them against the trunk of a great oak he felt the wolf's recognition weave itself into his own train of thoughts and it soothed Robb greatly. He may not yet be with his Jon, but for the rest of his days he would be here, within his wolf, his truest and greatest friend. There was no better way he would rather live out his time.

****

"We lost four brothers?" Jon asked looking around at the dead bodies surrounding him and feeling a small sinking of loss in the pit of stomach. He was all to encompassed in grief to really feel anything else.

"Five," Ed sighed as he dragged yet another dead body to join the rest around them. Jon stared at the body in slight distaste; even with all the violence he'd seen, some things were still enough to turn his stomach.

"What in seven hells could do that to a man?" Grenn sounded shocked. Jon smiled slightly internally. He knew exactly what could do that and worse to a man.

"I count ten dead mutineers," Jon stated, looking around them. Death had surrounded him and gripped him all too much since Robb's passing. He had prayed for it to be reversed, he had prayed for it to take him as well and now he stood and watched as the body count seemed to climb higher and higher.

"Locke said there were eleven of them," Grenn pointed out as the three of them glanced around expectantly. Slowly, upon finding no sign of the eleventh in question, Jon and the others felt anger bubble up inside of them.

"Where's Rast?" 

_A wolf had lingered for weeks. White as the snow he trudged through day by day, eyes as red as the blood of the victims staining his jaw after each heed of survival. For the night he sheltered himself, he could sense his master close, knew it wouldn't be long now. The white wolf needed to feed. He had been hungrier in his grief. He had felt the need to kill and tear the way he had felt it happen. He had howled at the death. Tearing the squealing man down, the wolf felt hope rise within him. Silent as the Ghost inside, he trotted into the night. It wouldn't be long, it would be now._

Grenn pulled his bloodied sword from a body, having ensured the man's death, he rose to move on and lifted his head to a steady trot of white, gleaming bright atop the blood and mud stained snow they stood upon. For a moment he stared, it had been many moons since he had seen the great creature. It still sent a tremble of fear down his spine. "Jon,"

Jon placed down the sword he was holding and turned, expecting another mutilation, another dead brother, anything other than what he saw. Jon could stop the smile graced across his lips, spreading quickly from ear to ear, "Where in seven hell? Come here!" 

Ghost jogged forward, meeting Jon half away. Feeling his wolf's breath upon his face, looking into the piercing red of his eyes, clutching the soft white fur that coated his body; Jon's eyes welled uncontrollably.

This great beast was once just a pup. A pup that sort comfort with his nose beneath his larger brother's muzzle, laying at the foot of Robb's bed as Jon lay at the head, seeking comfort with his nose tucked beneath his older brother's chin.  

"I missed you, boy," Jon chocked. He grasped Ghost's fur just a touch tighter for a second. He allowed himself just one moment to grieve with his wolf for the loss of their brothers. Cherish this time, Jon thought, the world we live in is far too cruel to allow even a bastard to mourn.

But Jon didn't let go. As they stood and watched Craster's Keep burn, watched the flames swallow the dead and turn both to nothing more than dust, Jon kept his fingers locked loosely in the gentle hairs caressing Ghost's back. If anyone had asked he would have told them it was to hold the wolf back from getting too close to the fire. But no one bothered asking. No one even noticed.

Once more, Jon crouched slowly at his reunited companion's side, Ghost turned to nuzzle his jaw into the side of his master's neck for a moment before retreating to look at the eyes even greyer with sadness. The pang of lost Ghost felt for his own seemed to double when he felt the pain Jon was holding within.

"We'll be okay, boy," Jon whispered, head hung low so not to show the tears lingering in his eyes. Even to his most loyal friend, an animal, Jon was afraid to show his weakness, "The loss we feel now, it... it does not define who we will be. We may avenge them, but our brothers, they would want us to live. Not just survive without them."

Ghost's head cocked to one side slightly. Most words fell on deaf ears, language not something even the greatest animals could understand, though the best trained may learn the gist of words as they grow. Family, however, was not something that evaded his intelligence. The wolf knew Jon was _brother_ that he had two _sisters_ and three _brothers_ , he knew that he himself was a _brother_ that he had two _brothers_ and one _sister_ and that two _sisters_ he yearned for.

His master spoke of their brothers, but Ghost's brother's were alive. He whined his confusion, but Jon had already stood and was watching the fire once more and his hand dropped back to Ghost's fur, petting and soothing. Not answering.

****

It was a strange feeling. The feeling that exhaustion wasn't gripping you body or muscles, that you were out of breath yet your lungs still felt as though they were moving freely and easily. Robb could feel that it wasn't his body he was inside, that he wasn't in full control - though he could be if that is what he wished- but rather a duel feeling of being.

It had been days since first glimpses of the Wall first came into view, a barricade of pure ice that soared into the air, further than the eye could see. At first Robb had thought a straight run towards and they would be there within two days travel, but this far north they needed to be careful. This is where the first spatters of Wildlings would be in a bid to head south. Creatures much like Greywind would roam here, perhaps creates far beyond even a Direwolf's stature.

But they had drawn so close now. Robb could sense the way Greywind was feeling Ghost closer to him, so much closer than he had been before. There were only a sparse few evergreens clustered a couple of hundred miles from Castle Black and sunset had drawn in so quickly. Normally Robb would keep them going until nightfall, even if Greywind had grown too tired to carry them any further, but if they didn't stop now they would find themselves out in the open snow in the dark. That was a risk, Robb couldn't take, no matter how eager he was to see Jon sooner.

The sky was a scorching red, despite the sun barely being seen from behind the clouds for the whole day. This was the most light they'd seen and there was only a few minutes left of it. Robb curled their body under a tree with the lowest hanging branches he could see. It was more to hide than keep warm. The warmth of a wolf was the greatest heat the northerner had ever felt.

As a young boy, Robb had had dreams of the wall. His little mind saw it as a smooth sheet of glistening white that stretched far beyond the clouds of the day and kissed the stars at night. Seeing it standing there in front of him, no amount of dreams could have prepared him from the humbling feeling its sheer size provided.

Robb could hardly believe Jon was right there. Hidden just behind this massive structure was his Jon, now a seasoned and rounded man just as he was wolf. Jon's voice would soon be music to his ears once again, his touch would bring the prickles to his skin and fur and Jon's heat would be his heat, and Jon's love would be his love and when the time came, they would die together rather than many leagues separating them.  

It was the midst of a pitch black night when Robb startled awake, tongue out, panting as though he had just stopped running for the first time in days. He'd seen wood burning and bodies with it, Jon was there watching, weary. Greywind emitted a whine from their throat, he had seen Ghost amidst the flames just as Robb had, staring up at his master as the fires rose.

_'If we go now, we'll be there by mid morning'_ Robb thought, ' _If we're as fast as we can be'._ Greywind internally agreed and Robb carried them up and into a sprint, allowing the wolf to relax back for a little longer. His eagerness to see Jon could hurry them for the time being.

It felt so strange to be so close to Jon again after so long. They were close enough now that Robb could feel his brother's presence once again. After everything he had lost to be here, all his men, his mother, his own body, and finally he was closing in. Mixtures of excitement and dread coursed through Robb; finally he wondered what he could possibly give Jon now, he didn't even have a human body. He just hoped that relieving Jon's grief would be enough.

The snow was thick and freezing beneath their paws as they ran and they were sinking further and further into its depth with every step making each one more exhausting, but, with their goal in sight, Robb kept them going. He couldn't wait until morning came.

****

Troubled dreams had kept Jon tossing and turning the entire night. Since returning to the wall, even though further south, the nights felt colder, colder than beyond the wall, colder than the snows of Winterfell. There was no warm brother's body to huddle close to; even Ghost had been locked away from him. All this as well as his mind betraying him in the darkness, haunting him with images of auburn hair and maroon blood and wolves howling amongst the evergreens. It was torturous.

Jon was up long before sun rise, even earlier than his usual pre-dawn rising, eyes tired and hair its ordinary mess. It completely surpassed him as the rest of the Watch began to fill in around him. Men hungry and rowdy as ever filled the hall and Jon just carried on staring, traumatised to even wonder if what he saw through the night even remotely resembled the painful way his beloved met his end.

"You haven't been yourself since you returned," Sam's voice was the first thing to stir Jon from his trance for hours, "Did you see something out there? You can tell me, Jon,"

Smiling a little down at his hands before turning to Sam and giving him the same unconvincing smirk, Jon shook his head a little and cocked his head to one side, "There's nothing out there, Sam, there's just nothing. The same as there's nothing here. I guess that's all."

"You're home sick?"

Jon laughed lightly, "I never thought I would be, I don't think I ever even thought of Winterfell as home, but... I suppose..."  It wasn't a lie as such, Jon couldn't say he so much missed Winterfell, rather he missed a certain lordling in Winterfell; that even were he to return, would not be there and would never be seen there again.

"Do you miss your family? Even that Lady Catlyn? I my father too sometimes, even after everything. But we're you're family now, Jon, the whole watch, we're brothers-"

"I only have three brothers!" Jon spat viciously, his head snapping and grey eyes piercing in a glare, his resolving faltering after a moment, realisation kicking in, "Two...two brothers, I only have two brothers."

"Jon, I-"

"THE GATE!" echoed throughout Castle Black. And Jon would remember that sound for a long time, the last spoken words to have fallen on Jon's numb ears, the last thing to sound empty and hollow like the open wound he had felt inside for far too long.

It only took a few moments for Jon to have fled outside to see the gate being heaved open by several men. Amidst the chaos he found himself wondering what on earth could have caused so much uproar. Until he saw him. It was unmistakably Greywind from the second Jon laid eyes on him, he had spent enough nights curled up next to that wolf to recognise him in an instant. But that wasn't possible, Greywind had died with Robb, they'd stitched his head to Robb's body for crying out loud!

"Another one of yours, Snow?" Jon heard someone snarl. He didn't even care to know who at this point, too entranced by the incredible Direwolf he loved so dearly now gazing at him as sheepishly as such a beast could portray.

"Could just be a wild one, you never know round here," someone else interjected.

"There are no wild Direwolves south of the wall, idiot, it would have had to come from the other side."

It was at that that Jon finally broke. It was all he could manage to keep from sobbing as he fell to his knees in front of the wolf grabbing Greywind's fur in his clutches and burrowing his face into the side of the creature's powerful neck.

"This can't be," Jon breathed against his fur, "You died with Robb, how can you be here? Oh gods, Greywind, you really are here!"

"Lock it away with the white one, Snow, we'll discuss this later."

Jon was suddenly reminded of the presence of so many others and that it wasn't just him and this last piece of Robb that was miraculous returned to him, "Come on, boy," Jon muttered, standing and holding a hand in the fur of Greywind's scruff to lead him away, "We'll go to your brother."

_You are my brother_ Robb longed to be able to call out to Jon. The moment he had bounded into the yard at Castle Black and he had locked eyes on his beloved he tried to call out to him _Jon_ only to be painfully reminded that he would never be truly able to convey himself to Jon ever again. Until he remembered the note he had written before his human body had perished.

Before he could pull away from Jon's leading hand to gesture to him, he felt his shared form being taken over by the wolf he was joined with. Greywind took them up onto their hind legs to begin scratching at the front of a wooden door before Jon had had the opportunity to open it. It was only then that he heard the insistent knocking and scraping on the other side as well.

Robb was overtaken by his feeling of overwhelming love and eternal gratitude to his great loyal beast, knowing that this had been as much a journey to Greywind's brother as it had been to his own. Robb only retracted their body to allow Jon to unlock the door before his wolf had him overpowered once again and they were bounding inside this small lock shed.

The two wolves bounded into each other, knocking each other backwards with the sheer force of their overzealous reunion. There was batting and yelping and circling tirelessly until the two colossal animals settled enough to merely muzzle into each other, greeting over and more a mutual recognition of each other's _I missed you._

Jon came in then too, smiling at the pair as they settled into one another, curled together in a corner reminding Jon so much of being back home in Winterfell and being settled in much the same way. Locking the door again, now inside, Jon crouched in front of the two and let each hand pet softly at the top of his wolves' heads, "I don't know how, Greywind, but I am beyond glad that you are here."

Greywind lifted one of his front paws then and began batting at Jon with it. Jon laughed trying to dodge away from the incessant clobbering of the huge, powerful paw of a Direwolf. Simply whining loudly to his response the wolf continued until Jon finally grabbed at his ankle in an attempt to stop him. Finally Jon noticed the rolled parchment securely fastened to the wolf.

Shaking slightly, the young watchman unfastened the bound around Greywind's leg. Having no idea what to expect he unravelled the parchment and read at last the eight words that would release the tight grip grief had had on his aching heart for what had felt like an eternity.

Silently Jon fell against the Direwolf, more than just the wolf, his love finally returned to him. Tears fell without a sound from his cheeks and upon the fur which seemed so ever softer to him now and his heavy, weak feeling arms managed to clumsily wrap around the form he needed to be so close to. With his head laid and his wolves resting contently, this is where Jon Snow spent the rest of that day.

Only to any onlooker who may have seen it would be two wolves and one man, but four rested there then; Grey, Runt, Young and White. Four wolves could be where only three would sleep, because the Young wolf had returned. Or maybe he had never quite left to begin with.

And Jon didn't need to question how, as that was all that mattered, eight simple words that could now consume and complete his once broken life.

_I am Robb. I love you, Jon Snow._      

**Author's Note:**

> This began last summer, almost a year ago, and it's finally here. I blanked for a long time, but was finally re-inspired when I started to write something else completely unrelated. I truly hope this was enjoyed by everyone who took the time to read it. Also, this all goes off the assumption that your consciousness can reside in the being you have warged to if your human body is killed while you are doing so.


End file.
